Out
by Alphabet Pie
Summary: Happy 411 Day! Vexen gets drunk. Hilarity ensues. Every other genre and then some. Lemon. 411.


It was a long time before anybody found out and, of course, it was completely and utterly Marluxia's fault.  
Well, it honestly wasn't, because it was _Vexen_ who initiated absolutely everything, but granted - it _was_ Marluxia who had got Vexen so out-of-his-mind drunk in the first place.  
It had been a Friday, and an idle one at that - and after a week of hard work and stress a few of the members of the Organisation had decided to settle down with a drink or twenty and spend and evening relaxing. Marluxia, who was rumoured to be hilarious while inebriated (although who had started that, he never could quite be sure), was naturally invited.  
And he thought it would be a good idea to drag Vexen along.  
The evening started off fairly well; Marluxia at one end of the bar and Vexen at the other so as not to arouse suspicion, with Luxord and Xaldin playing shots with Axel between them. Unbeknownst to them, Marluxia had planned to only drink a glass for every two of Vexen's so there'd be no chance of getting more drunk than the older man and doing something he'd regret later. But it was easy to relax with the easy atmosphere the others provided, and even easier to ignore the skinny blonde in the corner slowly tipping down drink after drink after drink.  
That was, of course, until he _wasn't_ in the corner any more, and rather straddling Marluxia's legs with the fiercest of green eyes locked onto his and bony hands slamming, hard, onto the bar, either side of him, and the sudden intimacy of two bodies being pressed together, closer and closer, until Marluxia's back clacked against the cool counter top. And then some.  
Marluxia didn't need to turn his head to know that everybody was staring like hell, and then suddenly he couldn't because Vexen's' lips were on his, passionate, _too_ passionate, with the taste of alcohol and hot, dizzying lust. Hardly in full control himself, Marluxia's body was already responding without him, letting Vexen come closer, suffocatingly close. It was sweet, bitter, desperate, arousing, glorious, humiliating, hilarious, wonderful, inexplicable, indescribable - but perhaps that was just Vexen.  
And then Vexen moaned, a deep, guttural groan that fluttered right through Marluxia's stomach, spreading a flurry of hot arousal coursing through his body. The others, momentarily, simply dissolved into oblivion as Vexen cocked his head a little to kiss at a better angle, as though the two of them would merge into one entity before they were close enough. His cold hands were roaming, paradoxically leaving hot flushes of skin in their wake, even though the thick leather of Marluxia's coat.  
He didn't even register until pain flowered across his back that Vexen had actually heaved him up to crash him onto the counter, straddling his stomach with ease and finding his lips and tongue again and again. For a moment, those icy hands were on his cheeks, tipping his head back for more deep kisses and then bites, trailing down his neck as though too eager to explore. And then the hands followed, impatiently tugging at an inconvenient zip and sliding easily inside, finding skin already flushed and shimmering with sweat to kiss, to bite, to _suck_.  
For a horrible moment the others returned, one whistling and another murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like "Hot _damn_", but then Vexen was on him again, kissing tight enough for their teeth to clack, blonde hair shielding Marluxia's quickly reddening face.  
And then he realised that Vexen wasn't actually terribly strong and he could almost certainly push him off to stagger out of a door and preferably onto a bed.  
And then he realised that he could have done that _five minutes_ ago.  
And then all the realisations melted away because one hand had found his belt buckle, and every slimmer of coherent thought simply _stopped_.

There was Vexen, on him harder and faster than ever before, and there were the others staring like they'd seen a ghost, and there was Marluxia trying to bite back moans and keep his hands gripping the edge of the counter and not any body part of Vexen's, and failing utterly to mask the feverish want and the hard, desperate _need_ for Vexen, here, now, soon to be naked and quite preferably wet and-  
"Don't you think we should help him?"  
"He seems to be enjoying it."  
"I think we ought to leave them to it, you know."  
"Hell no! I am so filming this to the end. Do you guys not realise what perfect blackmail material this is?"  
Marluxia made to mutter something snarky like "I can hear you, you know," but Vexen stole his words and locked them away with a twitch of thin, bony fingers around him as clothes made too restrictive were impatiently brushed aside.  
Restraint made too hard by just a little too much alcohol, Marluxia couldn't stop the groan that seemed to come less from his throat and more from his gut, and somewhere in the peripherals somebody cheered.  
For a split second, Vexen froze.  
Oh God, thought Marluxia, realising all too quickly where he was, where the others were, where Vexen was, and most importantly where Vexen's _hand_ was. Oh God, he's going to kill me.  
But then he seemed to consider the others unimportant, and set back to work with turning Marluxia into an incomprehensible, shuddering, helpless puddle of lust.  
(But damn, getting Vexen drunk was a brilliant idea. Except Marluxia should have got Vexen _alone_ first.)  
The fingers curled again and Marluxia very nearly screamed, legs automatically drawn up until his knees encountered Vexen, practically shaking with the pent up ache and every touch and every kiss, hot and cold and utterly, utterly wonderful.  
The two of them slid a little gracelessly to the floor and momentarily Marluxia found himself on Vexen's lap before the older man made certain to flip him over and pin him down for more bruising kisses. Marluxia's hands found leather, couldn't let go, couldn't _not_ slide under Vexen's coat, couldn't do anything but pull the man back for more kisses, more, more more more.  
Dimly, somewhere in the back of his sane mind, Marluxia thought that perhaps now that clothes were slowly disappearing and stripping with them all dignity they had left to hold portalling somewhere private would be a good idea. But Vexen was too distracting, too good, too hard against him, hands finding skin again and a tongue finding a neck to torment with burning, wet licks until Marluxia thought that he couldn't _get_ more desperate, more in need of some kind of perfect, mind blowing release, and then some with a talent that Vexen suddenly seemed to possess: to push Marluxia right up to the very edge without ever quite knocking him down.  
And hips grinding against him, even through a layer and a half of fabric, it really _was_ the absolute limit, the breaking point at which Marluxia could go no further, where the pressure would simply make him _snap_, and _still_ Vexen managed to take him to places he'd never been before like he was some kind of insane, amazing, beautiful drug.  
And Marluxia was hooked.  
He wasn't quite sure where the others were - if they were still here - but the secret was out now and there was no way that he was going to pass up the opportunity of Vexen not only willing but _wanting_, if possible even more than he was, hands never content to stay in more than one place for long as they explored every inch of Marluxia's skin as though memorising it for future reference.  
And _damn_, Marluxia sorely hoped that there would be a future reference.  
He felt Vexen's hips grind against him again and _holy-_ he'd heard of cold, hard science before (mainly from Vexen) but this, this was _hot_, hard science and infinitely better.  
And then it was over; Vexen shuddered and fell lax on top of him, sticky warmth slowly seeping through as though to purposefully taunt Marluxia. Feelings began to fade.  
Vexen began to snore.  
Gathering his tattered wits and dignity about him, Marluxia carefully dislodged Vexen, rearranged his clothing so that he _didn't_ look like he had a raging erection, and as calmly as circumstances could allow, stood.  
"Well. That was unexpected."  
Three nobodies stared quite blankly at him, one of them still holding cocked a camcorder, trained now on Vexen's sleeping body. Marluxia swept over and snatched it away, smiling a sickly sweet smile.  
"Thank you."  
Too late Axel recovered from his stupor to grab back at the recorder, but Marluxia had already pocketed it and nobody was going to dare going near there now.  
"Bloody hell," One of them eventually said.  
"Did Vexen just...?"  
"What sick shit did they slip into his drink? I want me some of that."  
Marluxia decided it would be unchivalrous to just leave Vexen there, so he picked the unconscious man from the floor and flung him over his shoulder to carry him away to a bed. The murmurs followed him.  
"Are they...?"  
"Why did he...?"  
"What are they going to do _now_?"  
Once in the corridor, lest he meet another nobody, Marluxia opened a portal and slipped effortlessly through, dumping Vexen onto his bed. Disappointingly, the man didn't wake up wanting more, and didn't look like he was planning to any time soon.  
Oh God. Tomorrow they'd both be fucked. And not in a good way.  
Marluxia sighed, sitting down by Vexen and running a hand through his hair. He needed a shower. And preferably sex, but Vexen probably wouldn't appreciate being sexed up in his sleep and he'd be touchy enough come morning.  
Remembering the camcorder, Marluxia suddenly had a thought, digging the thing out and finding the right button to play the film. Better make the most of it, he supposed, before Vexen killed him in the morning.

---

"No way! You're kidding me!"  
"I am not. Swear to God, one moment we were just sitting there, the next Vexen is just on him like _this_, and they start doing it like _rabbits_ - and the weird thing is that Marluxia was actually _enjoying_ it. Couldn't get enough. It was sick shit, I'm telling you."  
"Ew, I don't wanna know. I knew Marly was gay, but... Vexen?"  
"I'm not done yet! And then Vexen finished like, halfway though, wasn't even naked-"  
"Eurgh. Naked Vexen."  
"- And then he just fell asleep. You should have seen the look on Marluxia's face. Like someone'd told him Christmas was cancelled."  
"You're sick, you know that? You're making this up. Marluxia has way better taste than Vexen. I mean, they hate each other."  
"Yeah, that's what they _want_ you to think. It's all a conspiracy!"  
"... Axel. You are so stupid."  
"I'm not kidding you around! Ask Luxord or Xaldin, they saw everything too. Promise. On my life."

---

"Dude."  
"Somebody must have slipped something into Vexen's drink. He'd never do anything like that. And especially not to Marluxia. He hates the man."  
"_Dude_."  
"But that's the part I don't understand. Marluxia wasn't even that off his face and he was doing it right back to Vexen. And afterwards he actually carried Vexen out. It doesn't make any sense."  
"_Du-ude._"  
"Will you stop saying that word?"  
"Xal, do you realise what this means?"  
"Hopefully, it means that we all drank something bad and were hallucinating."  
"_No_. It means that Vexen and Marluxia have totally been hooking up in secret."

---

"I couldn't believe it. It came completely out of the blue. Not to mention that the fact that it was Vexen. All that man believes in is science."  
"To be honest, I've always had my suspicions about that man."  
"Hm."  
"Really? But with Marluxia? You'd never even think of it judging by their actions normally. Even I'm perplexed."  
"He always has been... odd..."  
"Who? Marluxia, or Vexen?"  
"Well, both of them. Although hardly suiting for bedmates. Perhaps one of them mistook the other for somebody else?"  
"I'm surprised neither of you had realised."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Marluxia and Vexen. For months. Didn't you notice?"  
"I hadn't got a clue - and I know everything."  
"It's not possible. Vexen would never sink that low. I've known him since I was six, he'd never sleep with anybody like Marluxia."  
"Then explain the roses."  
"What?"  
"The roses in Vexen's quarters. The extra equipment used in the labs. Vexen's habit of finishing up early of late. Their more explosive than necessary arguments in public. The signs are obvious, Zexion. I'm surprised at you."  
"So you're saying that Marluxia and Vexen are together."  
"Yes."  
"As in "together" together."  
"Yes."  
"... Oh."

---

"I swear to God, I am going to fucking kill you."  
Needless to say, Vexen had been very angry indeed come morning. The rumours were everywhere. Everybody knew.  
"Hey, at least I took the camera!"  
"That doesn't help!" Vexen screeched. He was pacing, back and forth, back and forth, occasionally running an agitated hand through his hair. "That doesn't help! _Everybody_ knows!"  
"So what?" Marluxia, who was actually equally horrified by the recent turn of events once the cold light of morning and hangovers had presented itself. "Everybody knows about Xigbar and Demyx."  
"That's different!" Vexen cried with a frustrated gesture, storming over to poke Marluxia in the chest. "I'm supposed to _hate_ you!"  
"Well, yes, and apparently you do."  
Vexen spat a foul word in Marluxia's general direction and paced away again.  
"I can't believe it. How could you be so stupid?"  
Marluxia let out a sigh at Vexen's blatant laying of the blame, nerves snapping.  
"Oh, _I'm_ the stupid one? Need I remind you exactly _who_ was the one pressing me against the bar in front of three other people?"  
"Shut _up_!"  
Marluxia, for once, obeyed, taking good note of the violent flash that shot through Vexen's green green eyes. The taller man let out a sigh, flopping onto the bed.  
"Don't you think I'm annoyed enough at myself as it is?"  
"If it's any consolation, you were pretty damn good," Marluxia replied with a shrug. Vexen moaned irritably, fists clenching and unclenching in nervous reflex.  
"That just makes it worse. Now everybody thinks that I'm a horny bastard."  
"Well, you _are_."  
If looks could kill, Marluxia thought gleefully at the glare that produced.  
"I hate you so much."  
There was a pause as they both contemplated this. It was Marluxia who spoke first, in a hopeful sort of voice.  
"Sex?"  
"Oh God, I thought you'd never ask. Come over here."  
"Hm... don't think my aim is _that_ good, dear."  
"Oh, you know what I mean."  
Marluxia felt a chuckle rise up in his throat. It wasn't so bad. Now that they'd more or less been officially outed, there were so many new possibilities for gaining personal satisfaction and annoying the hell out of Vexen.  
"You know what this means?"  
"What."  
"It means we can do it in public now."  
"_What._"

---

And it was worth it, really, even though his cheek hurt like hell afterwards, to waltz up to Vexen in front of a whole audience and just _mph_, kiss him so deep and hard and lovingly passionate and tender and plenty enough to horrify all the poor, innocent observers and send a red flush coursing beneath Vexen's eyes.

---

And it was worth it, really, because months and months later of having to deal with a grudgingly petulant Vexen both in and out of bed, to one afternoon receive the lightest of kisses to his lips in the presence of six other people. And oddly enough he was glad, glad that Vexen was his and only his, and he was Vexen's and _only_ Vexen's, and it took years but finally neither of them were afraid to admit it.


End file.
